


The Narrowest Path (Is Always The Holiest)

by Lexigent



Category: Rome
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:07:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexigent/pseuds/Lexigent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caesar and Antony keep pushing and pulling one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Narrowest Path (Is Always The Holiest)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acaramelmacchiato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acaramelmacchiato/gifts).



There weren't many men in the Empire who knew about Caesar's affliction. Antony had been around it once, back in Gaul, and what he wouldn't give to forget the experience.

It had been a strategy meeting like any other, which had turned into drinking wine over maps, and then into something else entirely. Antony loved teasing Caesar; knew full well the effect he had on his friend. The looks Caesar gave him should have burned the leather straps right off his armour by rights.

He let Caesar take it off bit by bit, revelling in the other man's touch. He'd just put down his braccae when he turned to Antony with a strange look on his face. Then he'd shoved one of the leather pieces into his mouth and collapsed, seizing uncontrollably, his limbs flailing about beyond his control.

Antony'd looked on helplessly, not knowing what to do. 

The fit ended abruptly, just as it had begun, and Caesar picked himself off the ground with difficulty. Antony gave him water, removed his toga, laid him down on a couch. Caesar whispered a word of thanks and closed his eyes.

"No one can know. The men can't know." 

"Of course." Caesar reached for Antony's hand and Antony held it. There weren't words to say he didn't care a jot for the Gods' judgement, that they'd clearly cursed the wrong man; that he worshipped him all the same and would follow him anywhere he went. Caesar opened his eyes and caught Antony's. Antony wasn't too sure what he read there, but he looked at the floor just in case.

"You are exhausted, Caesar. I should go."

"Antony." Caesar held his hand with more force than Antony would have expected from a sick man.

"Lie with me."

"Are you certain we should..." Antony knew how to cope with wounds and injuries, even madness. He didn't know how to cope with this.

"I am." Caesar pulled him down and Antony was powerless. Their lips touched and he realised that, no matter what, he would be loyal to this man to the death. He could feel Caesar's hands around him; a possessive grip, not a needy one. He let himself be drawn in, as he always had and probably always would. 

"Don't treat me like a woman," Caesar said, and Antony almost laughed, except for his awareness that he operated more gingerly than usual.

 

***

He's come to Greece, like Caesar ordered, and he's just washed the grime of the journey off himself when the fighting starts. The only communication between him and Caesar is some brief conversation about battle strategy, and then he has to put his armour on again and fight.

They win, but the victory is hollow and there are too few men to rejoice. They drink wine together in the aftermath. Antony's infuriated by the stoic silence in the room.

"So how is Rome, then?"

"Still standing, I expect. Better under your command than mine no doubt."

Caesar raises an eyebrow. "I gave you the office because I deemed it best for the city."

"You gave me orders. As if I was a common soldier."

"So I did. And then, I begged you to come and help me like a friend, and you came."

It's true, too, and Antony knows full well that loyalty is one word for what is between them, but that there are less favourable ways of seeing this. Such as, Caesar says jump, and Antony jumps.

Perhaps it's the wine, or the exhaustion, or the fact that he's just survived a wreck that drowned thousands of other men - whatever, there's something there itching inside his skin.

"I'd follow you to the ends of the earth. You know that."

"Of course I do."

"Of course you do." It's the casualness of it that really pricks Antony. "I know things about you that can destroy you, do you know that as well?"

Caesar downs his wine and lays a hand on Antony's with a silent nod. "But if you wanted to do that, you'd have done it by now."

Even when they're alone, Caesar still speaks words like he's speaking for an audience, but the tone is different, and his body is at odds with his mouth in a way that it never is when they're in public. There's a depth of trust underneath those words that elates him and scares him at the same time.

"True," he says, trying to sound nonchalant, and raises his glass to have a moment to think about what next to say. He sets it down and tilts his head.

"I can undo you in other ways." He shifts closer to Caesar, breathing in the fresh sweat, the tang of iron and leather from the battlefield still there underneath, even after a bath.

"Only if I let you." Caesar turns toward him, elbows firmly planted on the table between them.

"Oh, I'm a man who likes a challenge." Caesar smiled and Antony thought, finally, that the old spark was there again, if only for a moment.

He'd felt the layers of Caesar's persona, the masks he put on for other people to look at, fall away like so much linen, and later, much later, when their activities concluded with Caesar crying out underneath him, he knew he'd found some truth at the bottom of it all, some place where there was no dissimulation.

These moments would grow fewer and further between, he thought as he fell asleep, and knew it for sure in the morning, when all was business. Structure, yes, that was what military life was all about, but not certainty. Battlefields engendered a strange closeness between men, he knew that, had known it before he'd met Caesar, and knew about the difference in rules between war and peace. 

Rome would be a different story from all this, but at least, he thought as he headed out to deal with the jobs of the day, it would be one they'd face together after this.


End file.
